


Dark Things Are To Be Loved

by ZeroPlusOne



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6294472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroPlusOne/pseuds/ZeroPlusOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,<br/>in secret,<br/>between the shadow and the soul."</p><p>- Sonnet XVII, Pablo Neruda</p><p>Mino and Seungyoon grow up next-door-neighbors, with two opposite windows that give them glimpses into each other's very different lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For as long as Mino could remember, he hates Kang Seungyoon.

He isn’t quite sure when it started, but he suspects that its beginnings could be traced to the first time he laid eyes on the guy.

Mino was eight years old when large trucks disrupted a peaceful Sunday morning in their neighborhood. He may have been too young to care about whether mornings were quiet or not, but he was old enough to understand that Sunday was the only day his parents had no work to get to and had to stay home from morning until night. He didn’t know much about other families (because he only had this one) but whenever his Mom and Dad were around each other for long periods of time, they _always_ broke into fights.

Sunday mornings. The arguments would always come in full force on Sunday mornings.

He was also too young to know why they always fought, but he remembers finding out the truth when his uncle stayed with them for a couple of days. Mino was sitting on the top stair and observing his parents arguing in the kitchen, while hugging his knees tightly for something to hold on to. His usually quiet uncle sat next to him, ruffled his hair, and pulled him close enough to rest his chin on his head.

He explained that Mino’s Mom and Dad fought because they were just tired. Tired from work. From doing things in the house. From having to deal with his Mom’s stupid brother who got kicked out of his grandparents’ house because would rather do music than finish his law degree.

 _‘But they love each other’_ , his uncle had told him with conviction. _‘Your Mom and Dad love each other very much, Mino._ ’

So when Mino woke up that Sunday without the sounds of his parents’ loud voices from downstairs, he knew it was one of those days they _weren’t_ tired. Those days were rare, but they would come sometimes, and Mino would be extra careful when they did. He would clean his room without being told, eat his vegetables with gusto, even play with his younger sister, Danah, no matter how much he disliked her girly toys.

He didn’t want them to grow tired of taking care of him on top of everything else.

The day the Kang family arrived in the neighborhood was a rare quiet Sunday in the Song household. They were in the middle of breakfast when the moving trucks came, causing a raucous disturbance that replaced Mino’s precious silence. The movers made no effort to lower their voices as they yelled instructions at one another, unloading the family’s things into their new house. More than anything, Mino knew how much his Dad hated any kind of noise whenever he was reading his morning paper. So he found himself focusing on his Dad’s face, his small hands clasped underneath the table, praying that the commotion outside wouldn’t bother his old man.

His heart dropped when his Dad’s calm expression suddenly morphed into an annoyed one. And like clockwork, Mino turned his attention to his Mom, who had already begun massaging her temples with her fingers.

Mino took one look at his sister who was still eating her porridge, finished his food as fast as he could, and headed upstairs. He had a feeling his parents were going to be ‘tired’ before breakfast ends.

He drowned out the growing voices downstairs and sat by the window, looking out to watch the new family move into the house next to theirs. It was previously occupied by the Nam family who left about six months ago, just before school started. He recalled asking his mother why Taehyun had to move, when he was the only friend he had in the whole neighborhood.

His Mom usually paid little attention to his silly questions, but she gave him an answer. She told him that Mr. Nam was one capable man, and she was jealous of Mrs. Nam’s luck. She said more things but Mino didn’t understand adult words so he pretended to listen to her until she grew tired of talking. It wasn’t until middle school that Mino found out that Mr. Nam got a promotion at work that required the family migrating to America. By then, he didn’t really care anymore. But it finally made sense why his Mom sounded so sad that afternoon.

Several of their neighbors came out of their houses in anticipation of the newcomers. Mino didn’t really mind the Nam family being replaced, but he wished they didn’t come with those noisy trucks and those noisy men.

Then _maybe_ , his parent’s wouldn’t be tired and he’d still have his quiet Sunday morning.

Mino sighed and observed with forced interest for lack of anything else to do, until a black car pulled over the driveway and a boy around his age came out. Mino leaned forward for a closer look, his nose and cheeks pressed against the glass surface of his bedroom window.

The boy ran around the lawn with a giant smile plastered on his face, holding a flaming red Hot Wheels toy car that Mino had always wanted but never had the courage to ask his Dad for. Mino almost laughed when the boy tripped on his face from moving around too much, but his grin faded quickly when he saw the boy’s father rush to pick him up. The man hugged him tightly and asked several times over if he was hurt. His mother had come seconds later and brushed the dirt off the boy’s face and knees before planting a kiss on his father’s cheek, thanking him for saving their little angel.

The boy must not have been hurt much because he didn’t cry at all. While still in his father’s arms, the boy lifted his chin and looked up at Mino’s window. Mino withdrew a little, startled that he’d been seen. His first instinct was to make a face, but the other boy only tilted his head and flashed him a smile.

Mino knew instantly that he wasn’t going to be like his old playmate, Taehyun. Mino scrunched his nose and walked away from the window. He’ll just have to settle for Danah and her stupid toys.

 

 

“Look at that, look at that,” Hoon whistles, fingers curled around the iron wires of the netted gate. “He scored another one. What does that guy have that we don’t?”

Mino traps the edge of the cigarette between his teeth, pulling it out of the newly opened pack. He fishes out a lighter from inside his pocket and blazes up, sucking as much smoke as he could before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

There’s nothing particularly special about smoking, but Mino rather likes the feeling of something filling up his lungs. He holds it in until he senses the burning scratch at the base of his throat. It’s been a long damn day.

As soon as he opens his eyes, Mino sees the boy’s figure from a distance. The smoky haze blurs his vision as he exhales, but there’s no mistaking Hoon is pointing at Danwon High’s Mr. Perfect himself.

“Brains, money, personality,” Mino replies listlessly without taking his eyes off the guy. “I’d say good looks but we have that in spades,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair. It’s damp with sweat and he makes a mental note to take a shower as soon as gets home. In the meantime, Mino eyes the latest cleavage-flashing underclassman stuck to the guy like a leech. He takes another puff and tilts his head. “A giant dick, maybe.”

“If I knew girls prefer nerds, I would have studied harder,” Hoon turns with a disappointed scowl and grabs the cigarette pack that Mino lazily tucked inside his pants’ pocket.

“No one’s stopping you from studying now.”

“Nah, it’s too late for me. You have to start excelling in grade school otherwise it’s all useless,” Hoon tears his eyes away from the parking lot to face Mino. “It’s a domino effect, you see. If you suck as a child, that’s bound to spill over into your teens. The whole educational system is designed to make smart kids smarter and worthless kids feel even worthless with no hope in sight,” he explains with furrowed brows, waving his cigarette around so there’s haze of smoke around him. “It’s how the government weeds out bad ones, like you and me, so they can dump us in jobs no one wants and we’ll have no choice because we’ve been conditioned to think it’s all we’ll ever amount to. It’s sick but that’s how it is.”

Mino shakes his head, not really in any mood to engage Seunghoon’s conspiracy theories, and rests his back against the concrete wall. Thankfully, Hoon seems to be satisfied with his own explanation and directs his full attention back to the couple who, during their brief conversation, had moved on to holding hands while leaning against the hood of the flaming red Elantra that Mino sees every day.

He really must have some rotten luck that out of all the possible scenes that can unfold while they laze at the school’s back lot, they get stuck with one of Kang Seungyoon and his most recent conquest. He doesn’t even know why they’d be there today.

Mino could only watch as the two exchange a few laughs before Seungyoon’s hands slide around the girl’s waist, pulling their bodies close. His lips descend on her mouth in one swoop, and the girl lets out an exaggerated moan before snaking her arms around Seungyoon’s neck, all while his hands run up and down her backside. They travel to her ass, and Seungyoon gives them a squeeze before he sneaks a hand underneath the girl’s skirt. She’s reduced to a whimpering mess, arching her back and spreading her legs further, shamelessly taking pleasure in whatever Seungyoon’s hand is doing below.

Even from where Mino stands, he could make out the smirk playing at the side of Seungyoon’s lips as his tongue expertly darts in and out of the girl’s mouth.

Mino groans in disgust.

“Fuck,” Hoon spits. “The nerd’s got game. Is it weird that I’m turned on by this? Fuck.”

It doesn’t take long for Mino to look away, and he takes another puff before pressing the stick’s lit end against the wall. “I’m off.”

“What? That bastard’s about to fuck this girl on the hood of his car!”

“Have some self-respect and watch porn instead,” he lifts a hand for a half-hearted wave, but Hoon isn’t paying the least bit attention to him anymore. Even when Mino flicks his cigarette butt across Hoon’s line of sight, his friend’s eyes are still trained on the obscene view, which frankly, is only grossing him out so Mino wordlessly grabs his backpack from where he chucked it on the ground, slings it over his shoulder, and walks to the direction of the bus stop.

It’s almost five o’clock on a precious Saturday that he had to spend in that godforsaken school. His little fieldtrip to the rooftop with Hoon last Wednesday had caused them a whole day’s worth of detention where they had to scrub desks until the penis drawings and filthy scribbles were barely noticeable. Mino must have cursed a hundred times while imagining how the immature imbeciles were bound to dirty them up at the first chance they get.

He vaguely even remembers why he let Hoon talk him into going up there when all they really did was stand over the edge of the building and smoke, while Hoon ranted about every person he could recognize below.

Hoon complained about the girl who slapped and accused him of being a pervert when he was only trying to tell her that there was bubblegum on her skirt. Bitch. And that teacher who kept poking the back of his head until it actually ached. He’d complain to an administrator but who gives a shit about a delinquent’s head, right? And then there’s the class president who always gives him a nasty look as though he was some kind of incurable disease.

Mino silently listened with no judgment as Hoon spoke ill of everyone who had the nerve to look down on him. Mino was well-acquainted with that feeling.

“Kang _fucking_ Seungyoon,” Hoon pointed at the guy who had just emerged from the building in his basketball jersey, causing a gaggle of girls at the sidelines to scream his name. “He makes all of us look like little shits. There’s a special place in hell reserved for those kinds of people.”

Mino had chuckled at the irony. Everyone else thought Kang Seungyoon was some kind of angel that graced the Earth. But not Hoon. That’s why he likes Hoon.

After minutes of walking, Mino sees the bus stop from a distance and hastens his steps if only to get as far away as possible from the school on this hellish day. From the corner of his eye, a familiar red car whizzes past, until it stops abruptly a few meters ahead of him. Mino recognizes the plate number and involuntarily lets out an annoyed sigh. Nonetheless, he trudges on, fully intending on passing by said car and not even pausing to wonder why he knows the car had stopped for him.

“Song Mino.”

At the sound of his name, his footsteps slow down until they stop altogether. Mino considers responding for a moment before his better judgment takes over, deciding to just ignore him. He’s about to take another step towards the bus stop but the car jerks forward to catch up to him.

 _If you insist._ Mino looks to his left with a disinterested sigh and sees the open passenger window, Seungyoon craning his neck as far he could while being restrained by his seatbelt.

“I’m on my way home.”

Mino keeps himself from snorting and puts on a blank face. “So?”

Seungyoon unbuckles his seatbelt and leans to his side to push the passenger door open. “Hop in.”

Riding home with Kang Seungyoon is the furthest thing Mino wants to do at that moment, and yet he’d be lying if he says he isn’t mildly intrigued by the randomness of the offer. He stares at Seungyoon with a raised brow, but before he could stop himself, walks to the car and lets himself inside.

He tries not to be bothered by the pleased expression on Seungyoon’s face and instead, looks over his shoulder to the backseat. His eyes flit to Seungyoon who has already eased the vehicle back onto the road. “What happened to the chick?”

Seungyoon creases his brows for a second before a look of comprehension passes his face. If he is fazed at all by the discovery that someone had seen him and the girl in question at the parking lot, he doesn’t let it show.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, nonchalant. “She went home, probably.”

Mino scoffs. “How do you manage to be a dick and appear like a fucking saint at the same time?”

Seungyoon turns to him briefly and squints like he doesn’t quite understand what Mino means, but the side of lips twitches up by a fraction. “Practice.”

Wise ass. Mino pushes the button to open the car window and takes out his pack of cigarettes. He’d already lit one when he turns to Seungyoon. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Not at all.”

“I’d offer you one but I figured you’re the type to care about your health and shit.”

A soft chuckle fills the car. “Yeah. But thanks for thinking of offering.”

Mino rolls his eyeballs, almost gagging at the self-assurance in Seungyoon’s tone. It reminds him of the many reasons why he can never bring himself to like the guy. Mino makes sure to blow some smoke inside the car just out of spite before turning his attention to the open window.

No words are exchanged for a while, but Mino isn’t the least bit comfortable in the silence.

He’d already finished his cigarette when Seungyoon speaks again.

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”

Mino turns to Seungyoon, suppressing a derisive laugh. “Are we at the point of the car ride where we share random things about ourselves now?” He strokes his chin animatedly, feigning interest. “Give me a moment to think about what I’d care to share with you.”

Seungyoon tears his attention away from the road and looks at Mino, no response whatsoever to his sarcastic retort. Instead, his eyes graze over Mino’s left shoulder before he lifts a finger to brush the area just above the chest. Mino flinches at the touch, but Seungyoon withdraws his hand casually as though he’d done the most natural thing in the world.

“I want one but probably not as big as the one you have.”

Mino shifts in his seat, his hand instinctively covering the part of his upper chest where his tattoo is located. He had gotten it after a five-hour session last weekend, but it only fully healed recently. At least Mino thought so, because he still felt a sting where it came into contact with Seungyoon’s finger. He wonders how Seungyoon even came to know he had a tattoo when he’s wearing a shirt that covers it completely.

Mino doesn’t say anything more, nor does Seungyoon as the car enters their street. A few blocks later, Seungyoon pulls over right in between the two houses. Mino wastes no time and alights from the car as though a second more inside is going to suffocate him. As Mino pushes the door shut, his eyes automatically dart upwards to his window. Moving his gaze further to the left, he catches a glimpse of Seungyoon’s bedroom window situated directly in front of his. _So that’s how Seungyoon found out._

Mino hears the car door close and looks down in time to see Seungyoon already staring at him.

“I gotta get myself thicker curtains,” Mino growls, tightening his grip around the strap of his bag. He feels a mixture of anger and embarrassment, the former more pronounced. He really doesn't like how he lets Kang Seungyoon bother him so much.

Seungyoon smirks, his gaze steady on Mino’s. “Would it matter? You never close your curtains.”

“Fuck off,” Mino says and begins walking to his doorstep, vaguely aware of Seungyoon’s eyes still on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my attempt at a coming-of-age kind of story, so please expect a lot of teenage angst and first times and basically a lot of angry make outs hohoho. If you've come across this on AFF, that's me haha I'm pattitoo there. :)


	2. Chapter 2

_I’ve realized that rich black and white melody_

_Was like the sound of waves for me when I was sick of the desert of reality_

_The world was as small as a paper card,_

_So small it could be held in my small hands_

Mino cradled his most prized possession on his lap – a CD player that his uncle gave him on his tenth birthday, music on full blast in his ears through a cheap but serviceable pair of earphones he treasured nearly as much. Beside him was an old shoebox that held a number of CDs, ratty and frayed after having spent a lot of time under his bed, away from his mother’s disapproving eyes. Mino was due to receive a new mixtape next Sunday when his uncle comes to visit, and over the last few days, he spent most of his time wondering whether it would include more foreign songs, or it would be all-Korean underground like the last one he got. Maybe it would even contain a few of his uncle’s own tracks, like the one he was listening to now. As much as he missed the man and looked forward to his visits (which were more infrequent than he hoped), what Mino couldn’t wait for was to get his hands on a new CD. He’d already memorized the ones he has by heart.

Rap wasn’t the type of music a child should be listening to. At least that’s what his mother says. But the moment Mino heard his first beat drop one afternoon when his uncle cranked up the volume of his speakers all while thinking Mino was asleep in the other room and not, in fact, standing outside his door, he could no longer stay away. His body naturally moved to the music, and he found himself mimicking the way the older man bobbed his head. He liked the way the rappers’ words flowed with the beats – sometimes slow, often fast – even though Mino didn’t always understand what they meant.

_And soon it has become all grown-up and big–_

He was startled when the door to his room opened and his first instinct was to grab the blanket at the foot of his bed to hide what his mom would not want to see. But Mino stopped himself when, instead, a tear-streaked Danah came in – a familiar but still unsettling sight. He tugged his earphones down, and the beats were replaced by his sister’s choked sobs.

“She won’t let me go! Oppa, why won’t she let me go?”

With a sigh, Mino pushed himself off the bed, ignoring his sister who has since collapsed on the floor, crying more violently. Mino could hardly be swayed by her tantrums now, but he still wanted to avoid them as much as he could.

He walked to his window and peeked below. Several tables and chairs were strewn across the neighbor’s lawn, balloons and treats of every kind everywhere. It was a festive sight, Mino had to admit, even though he didn't care much for the occasion. Mino recognized the neighborhood kids he sometimes he saw at the clubhouse, and even a few classmates from school.

A few days back, Mino remembered peeking from behind the divider and seeing Mrs. Kang deliver the invitation to Seungyoon’s 11th birthday party to their doorstep. His mom didn’t look too happy about the intrusion; she didn’t say a word to Mrs. Kang before eagerly shutting the door – which was strange because Mino thought she was particularly fond of the woman, always talking about her latest shoe purchase, which bag she wore to Church, the recipes Mrs. Kang shares with her but she can never perfect.

Then again, it had been a while since his mother interacted with any of the neighbors, and Mino wondered if her behavior had anything to do with the last time their father was home.

She took one look at the colorful card in her hand, marched to the kitchen, and threw it in the trash bin. She barely noticed Mino standing there before she took out another bottle from the glass cabinet and opened it with practiced ease. She didn’t bother reaching for a glass this time, and while she gulped down the dark liquid, Mino had sneaked behind her to fish out what she threw. Mino saw Seungyoon’s picture on the card, along with the words, ‘ _See you there!’_

Mino was about to think of a way to silence Danah so he can be left alone with his music, when their mother burst inside his room, her glare automatically darting to his sister on the floor. She didn’t spare Mino a glance and bent down to yank Danah’s arm up.

“Are you going to keep being a brat? Stop crying!” She demanded through gritted teeth. But Danah would not stop, and Mino winced when his mom’s hand finally hit Danah’s backside. Mino turned away when she did it the second time, the sound of the slaps filling Mino’s room, stopping only when Danah’s sobs were reduced to huffs.

There was silence before he heard Danah’s tiny voice again.

“Dad would let me go.”

Mino snapped his head around. The anger that filled his mother’s eyes at that moment made Mino rush to Danah’s side in fear. But when he leveled his eyes with his mom’s, she only gave him a sharp look, rose to her feet, and turned around without another word.

In the silence that followed the slamming door, Mino heard muffled laughter. He took another look at Danah who seemed to have calmed down a little and walked to his bed, picking up his CD player. It was lucky his mom didn’t notice, or she would have taken it away in a heartbeat. Mino relished that little victory and padded towards the window when the laughter grew louder.

The first thing he saw was Seungyoon surrounded by his guests. He was blindfolded, taking small steps in every direction as he used the bat in his hands to search for the festive piñata that hung above him. Seungyoon stopped when the bat grazed the pig, or whatever deformed animal it was. Mino watched as he took a step back, brought the bat over his head and struck with all the might a skinny boy could muster. The piñata broke, spilling treats all over the Kangs’ green lawn, and the kids cheered and dove down excitedly. They kept moving on all fours, eerily reminding Mino of the herd of sheep he saw on TV the other day. Seungyoon pulled down the bandana that covered his eyes and donned a proud look while everybody else fought over the sweets on the ground.

Like Mino had somehow expected the boy would, Seungyoon raised his head to look up Mino’s window. This time, Mino didn’t shrink back or try to hide from Seungyoon’s gaze. For a moment, Seungyoon looked confused. Mino held his stare until the other boy raised a hand and motioned for him to come down with a grin.

All at once, Danah resumed crying behind him and the kids in Seungyoon’s party let out shrieks of joy when a mascot emerged from behind a tree. Seungyoon kept looking at Mino, not in the least bothered by the commotion around him.  _Come down,_ Seungyoon mouthed.

Mino reached for his earphones, put them on, and turned away.

_Running out of breath, I’m always melancholy_

_The only ugly child in the story of little princes_

Mino long stopped wishing for silence, and replaced the noise with music instead.

 

 

 

“Did you come home with Seungyoon?”

Mino had just opened the door and let himself inside at the same moment his mother steps away from the window, a rare smile gracing her lips. Mino’s eyes dart to the wall clock on instinct. It’s unlikely – no _, strange_  – for her to be home at this hour.

“If you mean I rode on the same vehicle as him to get to this house then yeah,” he replies nonchalantly, his attention already directed elsewhere. “Where’s Danah?”

“Upstairs.”

Mino pushes past her on his way to the staircase, but it seems she doesn’t have plans on ending the conversation because he could hear her footsteps following behind. He sighs heavily; he had hoped for some quiet after a god-awful day but it seems that peace is about to elude him yet again.

“You should really hang out with Seungyoon more then maybe that boy will rub off on you. God knows how much you need someone like him around and not the  _hooligans_  you run around with—”

“Stop,” Mino turns around, cutting her off. Mino towers over her; he’d grown tall enough to be nearly a foot taller than the woman, and he feels a tinge of pride that he never has too look up at her again.

“I never say anything about  _your_  friends so you really shouldn’t be saying anything about mine.” His voice came out harsher than he intended, but he feels no remorse about it. He dips his head in a curt bow and heads upstairs, leaving his mother wordless below.

Any son would have sensed that nagging feeling at the pit of his stomach for behavior like this. Even the most rebellious teenagers know when they are hurting their parents, often on purpose, and are ashamed and guilty of it.

And yet Mino feels nothing. It bothered him before – how he can feel utterly distant and indifferent towards the woman who raised him. But he’s used to it now. His mother probably is, too.

He skips the door to his room and marches straight for Danah’s. A chill washes over him when he turns the knob and discovers it’s locked. A familiar sense of panic creeps under his skin. Mino jiggles it a few times and rams his shoulder against the surface. When it doesn’t budge, he begins tapping in desperation.

“Danah. Danah, open the door,” he says firmly while rattling the knob, his hands beginning to quake. “Danah! Fuck.”

He has half-a mind to kick it down when the knob in his hand turns, and the door opens to his sister who dons a bed head and two very droopy eyes, still blinking the sleep away. Mino urgently takes a step inside the room and cups her cheeks, examining her face closely.

“Op– oppa, you can release me now,” she puts her hands over his and tugs them down.

Mino exhales after what seems like a minute of holding his breath and rakes a hand through his hair. Shutting the door, he leans his back against it to steady himself. He should really rein in his overreactions, but he can hardly blame himself given Danah’s track record. “What the fuck, Danah. I thought I told you never to lock your door.”

“Mom was being annoying,” she crinkles her nose, completely oblivious to the heart attack she almost caused him. “I took a nap and forgot. Sorry.”

It takes a few more seconds before Mino is able to compose himself and lifts a hand to ruffle Danah’s hair. “Don’t do that again. Don’t give me another scare.”

Danah offers him a faint smile, which disappears in an instant. “You smell like cigarettes.”

“I was stressed. This is the last time, I promise.”

“You always say that.”

“Do you have any idea the disgusting shit people write on their desks?”

Danah sniggers and coils her arm around Mino’s, flashing him a grin that effectively makes him forget his earlier outburst.

They lay side by side on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Mino tells her about his awful day – how many desks he actually had to scrub while being supervised by Coach Jin, their balding gym teacher who has a bad habit of grinding his teeth. Hours of listening to only that sound nearly drove Mino insane, and if it weren’t for Hoon cracking him up once in a while with his stolen impersonations of the old man, he would have screamed his lungs out and probably gotten more detention days. He also recounts how they sneaked into the faculty room to rescue the boxes of cigarettes from Mr. Gong’s drawer that had been unfairly pilfered from the students – not that Mino would ever smoke them because they’re all in Hoon’s possession, he assures her. He talks about what Hoon really thinks of the educational system in Korea and how a dumb one like him can’t excel, although strangely, Hoon speaks so articulately sometimes (especially when he’s listing down the injustices of this world) that Mino often wonders if Hoon secretly reads in his free time and is only posing as a delinquent. Or maybe Mino is just over-thinking because why the hell would anyone want to look as dumb as Hoon?

Danah laughs the kind of laugh that could fill an empty stadium. It makes Mino smile for the first time that day.

Mino is far from being talkative. He can even go a day without uttering a single word and nobody would ever think it strange. But it’s different with his sister who, strangely, loves listening to him talk. That’s why Mino always reserves his best stories for Danah.

Of course, he conveniently leaves out the part where he saw Kang Seungyoon’s tongue down some girl’s throat or that weird ride home. Mino bites his lower lip, a finger tracing circles over his tattoo.  _Really weird._

“Oppa.”

“Hmm.”

“Have you ever liked someone, like really liked her?”

“Huh?”

Danah turns to her side, using her elbow to prop her head up. “You know, flutters in your chest, butterflies in your stomach, the whole deal? One look from that person makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t even speak anymore. And when that person smiles at you as if no one else is in the room, you feel like the ground can swallow you whole because you can die happy.”

Mino frowns, pushing his torso up to sit down. He doesn’t like where this is going. “What are you on about?”

Danah looks down shyly and smiles. “Oppa, there’s this boy…”

Before Danah could breathe another word, Mino leaps off the bed in lightning speed. “ _And_ that’s my cue to leave.”

“Ah, I’m still talking!”

Mino hisses. “Song Danah, do I look like your girl friend? I’m your scary, older brother, you brat. You shouldn’t even be talking about boys because I’m beating up any guy who comes near you!”

Danah laughs again. “As if. You can’t possibly beat up K—“

Mino puts a hand over Danah’s mouth. “Stop right there! I don’t want to know his name or I'll want to find out where he lives, too. I'm too young to end up in prison for killing a teenager with raging hormones. Don’t bring this up again or I’ll stop talking to you.” He yelps when Danah bites his hand playfully and he gives her another scowl before walking towards her door. Danah only chuckles in his wake, Mino vaguely hearing her say she’s ordering Chinese for dinner as he’s walking away.

Mino pushes the door to his own bedroom open and collapses on the bed. He ought to take a shower to wash away the stink of a whole day’s worth of manual labor, but his body is too heavy and his covers too inviting.

He closes his eyes, attempting to drift into a nap before dinner, but his exhausted body is no match for his active mind, and no sooner do unwanted thoughts swirl in his head. One in particular burns against his eyelids.

Something gnaws at the pit of Mino’s stomach as he remembers the scene at the parking lot, a tiny detail he didn’t think much of. He couldn't be sure but when Seungyoon smirked against the girl’s lips, his eyes lifted to look squarely at Mino by a fraction of a second.  _Like the bastard knew I was watching._

Mino’s hand flies to his chest as he pushes his body up to sit on the bed, simultaneously shoving the thought away. His gaze, however, falls to the open window.

_"You never close your curtains."_

With an angry huff, he marches for it with every intention to shut the blinds, but his hands stop short when he catches sight of Kang Seungyoon.

Their windows are a good few meters apart, but Mino has always thought they’re closer than it seems. So much so that even when he only sees split seconds of Kang Seungyoon’s bedroom whenever he moves about his own room, over ten years, it’s as though he had memorized details without intending to. And definitely without wanting to, he had also come to know some of Seungyoon’s habits. How he shuts his lights before 11 o’clock, but Mino always notices a dim glow that’s unmistakably from a laptop all the way past midnight. Or how he could spend hours on end on his desk without moving, and if Mino didn’t think it’s lame to be so passionate about something as boring as schoolwork, he’d have admired the guy’s dedication.

Then there would be those times when Seungyoon does something out of routine that catches Mino's interest. This might just be one of those moments.

Seungyoon’s back is turned to him, motionless as he looks at his reflection in the full-length mirror. But it’s not his stillness that draws Mino in, rather, the curves of Seungyoon’s bare back, the deep line of his spine that stops an inch above the waistband of his jeans that are cut low enough to reveal the tiny but still noticeable cleft between his ass.

With some effort, Mino lifts his gaze to focus on Seungyoon’s face in the mirror and tries to make out the expression he wears. There’s nothing noteworthy there, just a stoic look that’s almost unnervingly empty. For a second, Mino thinks about the possibility that he might get caught watching him like this, but Seungyoon seems too out of it to even notice.

_What is he doing?_

After what seems like a few minutes, a flicker of movement from Seungyoon jolts Mino out of his stupor. And before Mino could react, Seungyoon bends down and pulls his jeans off. Mino blinks away, but not soon enough to miss the shape of his ass cheeks filling in the black underwear Seungyoon wears beneath.

Mino quickly pulls the curtains close.


	3. Chapter 3

  
The weekend flies by all too quickly for Mino’s liking, but Monday is another day closer to getting out of high school, so there’s  _that_  as his dismal silver lining. If only time moves along as easily on weekdays, perhaps he wouldn’t be so sour about having to drag his ass out of bed at the break of day only to suffer through the rest of it.

As expected, Danah is already gone by the time he comes down the stairs. He’d slept in today; he isn’t accustomed to the darkness of his room during mornings since usually, sunlight seeping through his window is enough to rouse him awake. That’s probably something he’ll have to get used to from now on.

He finds a sandwich waiting for him on the dining table, along with an orange sticky note with Danah’s handwriting, a rushed scribble demanding he not skip breakfast. Mino scoffs as he picks up what she would have declared a masterpiece had she been there, examining the uneven strips of spam slathered with too much ketchup sandwiched between two semi- stale pieces of bread. Clearly it isn’t much of a breakfast – it never is, given Danah’s limited kitchen skills – but she always makes sure Mino never goes hungry regardless. It’s a good thing he isn’t a picky eater or he’d be starving on a regular basis.

Taking a large bite, he checks the time, arrives at the conclusion that he’ll be late for first period whether he hurries or not. He doesn’t really care either way, so he takes his time tidying up the small mess Danah left in the kitchen.

It’s half past seven when he steps out of the house, already a little worn out just thinking of another dreary week ahead, full of self-righteous adults who care more about the school’s average than anything else, obnoxious, stuck-up brats in uniforms, and a largely uninspired environment that breeds an equally impassive student body. Mino loathes the monotony of it all – the pecking order, the rules, written or not, that bind them to what has been collectively,  _unfairly_ decided as acceptable. Break the mold, and you’re either a rebel or an idiot.

A delinquent, Mino is called. Labeled. But it’s euphemism for what he’s likely to end up as: a criminal or a bum, and most of his classmates treat him as nothing but.

Sighing, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to see Seungyoon distractedly shuffle to his car, slamming the gate and muttering a curse as his keys land on the pavement. Mino takes lazy steps on their walkway, eyes still on the guy, halfway between curious and amused at what he suspects is one of perfect Kang Seungyoon’s not-so-perfect days. His hair is a tangled mess – and not the usual styled mess he sports that half the girls in their class go crazy for. It literally looks like he just rolled out of bed – his blazer askew, the edges of his shirt sticking out of his pants.

Seungyoon had already opened the car door when he chances upon Mino’s eyes by accident. His harried movements cease, and Mino watches Seungyoon’s shoulders roll back as he swings to face him without the crease between his eyebrows from earlier. He rakes a hand through his hair then slides it inside his pocket before casually leaning sideways against the car like it’s some fucking photo shoot. Mino nearly scoffs at the sudden one-eighty. He’s seen this before, one too many times: Kang Seungyoon’s transformation. Always when a different pair of eyes are on him, always when he realizes someone else is looking, judging.

Mino bolts the gate’s lock and focuses on the stretch of street he has to walk to get to the bus stop. He pulls at the earphones in his pocket, tucks them in both ears. No music, just for show. He doesn’t want to be bothered. Especially not by the guy who is still staring at him.

“You’re gonna be late,” he hears Seungyoon say when he passes him and his car. Mino continues to walk, makes a show out of bopping his head to the imaginary beat.

“Don’t be stupid, Song Mino.” It’s louder, firmer, and just a tad condescending.

Mino pauses and turns on his heel. It’s way too early to be riled up by Kang Seungyoon but the guy has a way of getting under his skin more than usual lately.

“What did you say?” He spits, taking a step forward to stress his mounting aggression. By experience, one step is enough to make people back down.

And back down, Seungyoon does. But not in the way Mino likes, because Seungyoon’s face is calm, accented with a neighborly smile and misguided fondness. “I said don’t be stupid. We’re both going to school anyway. Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” he gestures to the car, but when Mino doesn’t budge, he sighs. “It wouldn’t be your first.”

Mino's brow twitches at the last line. “No, thanks. I’d hate for you to think I’m a freeloader. Or worse, that we’re some sort of _buddies_ or something disgusting like that.”

Seungyoon’s expression darkens, his lips quivering for a moment, like he’s holding back from saying something, before they rest in a taut line. Mino could see the pressure in Seungyoon’s jaw, could make out the budding anger clouding beneath his eyelids.

_Well this is new._

“Fuck this,” Seungyoon says bluntly Mino can’t help but raise a brow. “Suit yourself.”

The door slams and the engine purrs. Mino watches a visibly pissed off Seungyoon give him another glare through the windshield, throwing Mino slightly off kilter. He’s never seen the guy so wound up. He barely has the time to get out of the way before the car speeds past him, missing his foot by only a few inches. Mino jerks back on instinct, nearly losing his footing as he yells profanities at Seungyoon that cut through the quiet morning.

 

Mino shouldn’t give a shit, not really. He doesn’t confront Seungyoon when he arrives in class half an hour later, even though the little standoff hasn’t left his thoughts. His entrance isn’t dramatic, his classmates barely offer him a glance as he walks through the door and flops into his seat right next to Hoon who’s already sprawled on his desk, sound asleep. Their homeroom teacher has the decency to glare, flash Mino the usual disdainful frown, probably mentally cursing his misfortune of landing the likes of Song Mino in his class, and marks his name tardy on the record without bothering to say anything.

Mino stretches his arms in a shameless attempt at getting a rouse out of Mr. Jung, who, disappointingly, simply ignores him and proceeds to write on the board. His arms land crossed on the desk as Mino bends down to rest his chin over his hands.

 _English idioms,_ Mino reads.

_A penny for your thoughts; a way of asking what someone is thinking._

_Beat around the bush; to avoid the main issue._

A messy head of hair a few desks to his right steals his already waning attention. Mino moves to rest his cheek on a drawn out arm as he observes Kang Seungyoon’s chin tilt up and down in a fixed rhythm, his hand busy scribbling away on his notebook. His lips are puckered in concentration, eyes intensely focused, whether it be reading the unfamiliar words on the board or following the strokes of his own handwriting. Mino keeps his gaze on him, absorbed and probing, until Seungyoon shifts faintly.

Mino tenses. Seungyoon is subtle – a few blinks, a quick sweep from the side of his left eye. But Mino sees it. Seungyoon knows he’s watching.

And so Mino waits. At the end of the class – and Mino is still paying attention – Seungyoon slams his notebook shut with intent and twists in his seat to look Mino in the eye. Mino’s brows arch in a silent challenge. Seungyoon doesn’t bat an eyelid either, shadows of his anger from earlier still evident in his rigid gaze, in his upturned mouth.

Mino smirks, clears his throat. There’s a rush in his system that he couldn’t place, egging him on, compelling him to do something out of character that he doesn’t feel the need to restrain.

“I almost died this morning,” Mino announces loudly under the pretense of talking to Hoon who, at the sound of Mino’s voice, stirs and raises his head. Hoon’s heavy-lidded eyes register annoyance and slight surprise. Mino isn’t one to draw attention to himself like this. Hoon has always been the loud one who aggravates the hell out of everybody. Mino’s the one who never talks and just gives people nasty glares.

A few of their classmates stop and turn to them in curiosity.

“Some lunatic driver nearly ran me over,” Mino continues, tapping his fingers on the desk, goading and smug. He remains focused on Seungyoon whose eyes grow wide by a tiny fraction, but manages to keep a straight face. “And it looked like the fucker wanted to.”

A girl snorts aloud, turns back to her notes, clearly unimpressed by Mino’s story. The others do the same, and one mousy guy whose name Mino never bothered to remember, says something along the lines of ‘ _maybe you’re the lunatic.’_ Mino doesn’t take offense, but Hoon does, and before Mino could say anything else, Hoon has already stood up from his desk and bent over to smack the back of the guy’s head.

“Say that again,” Hoon challenges and the frightened guy, about half the size of Hoon, slinks lower into his seat. “Yeah, I thought so,” Hoon kicks the guy’s desk and shakes his head as he moves back beside Mino. “These idiots are really testing my patience. Can you believe that guy?”

Mino doesn’t reply; he doesn’t really notice anything else going on around him because Kang Seungyoon, who Mino thought was seconds away from losing it, just rolls his tongue over his lower lip and smiles.

He fucking smiles.

Like he’s in on some sick joke. It’s suggestive and malicious,  _mocking_ , as though he has the upper hand of knowing a secret that Mino doesn’t, and the bastard relishes it. It takes every ounce of Mino’s restraint not to just march up to the guy and punch the smirk off his pretty face. Because Mino is certain that the tired, hackneyed narrative of delinquent versus Mr. Perfect has the same conclusion every time. It never ends well for Mino.

Instead, he lets out a huff that turns into a dry laugh as he watches Seungyoon shrug and walk over to the front of the class. He stops by a girl’s desk – Haeri, Mino recalls – and kneels down in front of her. Haeri’s face lights up at what Mino assumes is a clichéd pick up line, sticking her chest out on instinct in welcome of Seungyoon’s open flirtation.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“What?”

Hoon presses Mino’s shoulder back to examine him. “You didn’t get hurt or anything?” Mino flashes him a confused look and Hoon playfully places the back of his hand against Mino’s forehead. “By that lunatic driver you can’t wait to tell everyone about, I mean. You said you almost died.”

Mino pushes Hoon’s hand away. “There are too many sociopaths in this world.”

“Some would argue that we’re the sociopaths,” Hoon quips, chin jutting towards the guy he nearly harassed earlier.

Mino looks over at Seungyoon again who traces a lock of the poor girl’s hair and tucks it behind her ear. Seungyoon’s lean fingers drum against the palm of the Haeri’s hand, his lower lip caught in between his teeth. His movements are deliberate, teasing,  _aware_  that he has an audience.

Mino could almost hear Danah’s spam sandwich turn in his stomach. He and Hoon have done questionable things but he knows there are worse people out there.  _Way worse._

 

 

 _Curiosity killed the cat_ ;  _being inquisitive about other people’s affairs could get you into trouble._

Mino doesn’t need English class to know this.

What he doesn’t know, however, is  _why_  after ten years of ignoring Kang Seungyoon’s existence,  _why the hell_ would he be curious now. Sure, he knows things that most people don’t know about Seungyoon, but that’s more an unintended consequence of their living situation than a result of any real interest.

Despite living next to each other for most of their lives, he and Kang Seungyoon live in vastly different worlds, run in opposite circles, and they certainly are not moving in the same direction. Even as a child, Mino knew this and was sensible enough not to build any relationship with the boy next door. Seungyoon is the type who excels at everything, that universities would accept in a heartbeat and who could study whatever he wants to because he has the brain and the money for it. If Mino is lucky enough, he’d get a decent-paying part-time job that wouldn’t suck all the life out of him after high school because let’s be real, he’s never going to college.

There is no reason for Mino to be entangled in whatever game Kang Seungyoon is playing,  _if_ he is even playing anything. Mino knows better.

But that goddamn school is boring as fuck, and this is the first thing that held Mino’s interest for more than a few days. And so against his better, saner judgment, Mino pays Kang Seungyoon more attention than necessary. 

And Seungyoon, that motherfucking bastard, must have sensed it, too. In class, in the hallways, at the back lot where most students loiter past school hours, Seungyoon is all lazy, devious smirks and lingering stares. Mino is often able to catch Seungyoon’s eyes in a crowd, if he doesn’t discover Seungyoon’s eyes already on him first. Then there’s always a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Overwrought. Tense. Seungyoon never approaches him, never tries to talk to him. He would only return Mino’s curious gazes from afar, even when he’s surrounded by people who are practically worshipping him at his feet. Mino is sure – he is _sure_  that Seungyoon’s attention is never on them. It’s on him, and Seungyoon makes damn sure Mino knows. 

It feels a lot like provocation. It makes Mino seethe, burn inside, because  _how dare_   _he_  pull him in recklessly like this. Seungyoon has no idea what kind of person Mino is, or the things he’s capable of doing.

And what more, what irks Mino all the more is how everyone is oblivious to this – just as they had been inanely, blissfully unaware of the fact that Kang Seungyoon is not a fucking angel. Not even Hoon in his sharpest notices anything different.

Not even when Seungyoon deliberately sidles up next to him in the Cafeteria line and orders the exact food Mino does to incite a reaction out of him. And right then, Mino thinks of finally breaking his silence, maybe even humiliating the school’s golden boy by dumping a bowl of tofu stew on Seungyoon’s head and no one would think it’s beyond Mino to do something so horrible. He’s a delinquent after all.

But words are lodged in Mino’s throat as they brush elbows, touch shoulders. He could almost hear Seungyoon breathing next to him, prodding him to make his move. And Mino makes the mistake of looking up. Because Seungyoon’s eyes are noncommittal, the corner of his lips tugged up in a wry, barely noticeable smirk. All Mino could bring himself to do is look away, at Hoon to his right who is busy scooping up some sprouts. The silent exchange has gone unnoticed again.

Something clicks inside Mino and without warning, he dumps his tray – making a shrill clang that echoes in the cafeteria, causing several students to look his way. Hoon swears out loud when some of the stew makes its way onto his pants. But Mino doesn’t care and walks out of there, a hand already reaching inside his pocket. He needs a fucking smoke.

A half an hour and several cigarette butts later, on the same spot he was caught with Hoon at the school rooftop, it finally hits him. Mino has been completely reeled in. It isn’t just Seungyoon anymore. They’re  _both_ playing some unspoken game with vague rules and no way to determine victory.

_But why? What the fuck for?_

Mino doesn’t have the faintest idea. All he knows is someone is bound to yield one way or another. And it isn’t going to be him.

 

 

It’s Seungyoon who breaks one of their unspoken rules come Friday.

The clink of metal causes Mino to look up from his phone screen to Hoon’s unusually knotted expression. Mino leans back against the surface of the lockers, thumbs hovering over the screen as he tears his gaze away  from his friend and directs it towards the ceiling, mulling over how best to respond to Zico’s message hounding him to hurry up. The crew had been set to perform at Dojo Lounge last Saturday and Mino has yet to give him an explanation for his no-show, but he’s already committed to come hang out earlier to make up for it.

He quickly types a promise to make an appearance tonight.

“Mino.”

“What?”

Hoon’s expression is unchanged, his head craned, looking past Mino to the end of the hallway, near the stairwell.

“Wasn’t that Danah?”

Mino turns to follow his line of sight and sees no Danah, only several students going about their way. Sensing nothing amiss, Mino crosses his arms and examines Hoon’s curious squint instead. “So what if it was?” Hoon, still distracted, doesn’t say anything and the back of Mino’s hand automatically smacks Hoon’s torso. “I’m telling you now, stay away from my sister or—“

“It’s not that,” Hoon bites back, looking more concerned. “Shit, I think she was crying.”

Mino’s shoulders tense and he whirls around once more to discover a bigger crowd. And this time, he realizes the hallway is noisier than usual.

“Dude, I think she came from the rooftop. And she was crying. I’m sure.”

Before Mino could say anything, Hoon has already set off for the stairs and Mino shuffles to follow closely behind, hoping against hope that Hoon is wrong. By the time they get past the throng of students, Mino already hears Danah’s name three times, making him even more anxious. His footsteps hasten as he descends down the stairs, overtaking Seunghoon completely. Everything is a blur at this point and his only thought is to get to Danah as fast as he could.

That means having to shove and shoulder most people in his way, earning him an earful of cussing. Final period is over but students are mostly still there, either about to leave for cram schools or home or wherever they intend to spend Friday night, or stay for self-study period.

He arrives at the classroom and flings the door open to several gasping first years. Danah isn’t there. Mino marches straight for the boy nearest him and tugs on his collar.

“Where’s Song Danah?” He growls, a mixture of panic and anger rising in his throat. Danah’s classmates are backing off slowly, clearly terrified – Mino isn’t exactly a friendly face on campus – but out of the corner of his eye, he notices Hoon slip inside by the other door, blocking those attempting to escape.

The boy’s mouth trembles, looking about ready to wet his pants, before answering a shaky “I don’t know.”

Mino releases him with a push, quickly deciding to head out and look for Danah himself instead of interrogating anyone else. But Hoon stops him by the door before he could take another step. His face is contrite as he pushes an unfamiliar cell phone towards Mino, all while gesturing to the group of girls now huddled in a corner not to fucking leave the room.

On the screen was a photo. The first thing Mino sees is Danah’s smile – that rare smile only reserves for when she is genuinely happy, if not a little shy. Her eyes are closed, chin tilted up only slightly in expectation. A boy stands in front of her, his sneering face devil-like as he beckons whoever is holding the camera to come closer. Mino clenches his hand around the phone, scrolling down at the group chat, glossing past the hurtful words hurled at his sister, and focuses on the photos of this boy mocking Danah, tongue out, miming obscene gestures while she leans back against the surface with her beautiful, rare smile.

Mino’s vision darkens, his whole body trembles with unspeakable rage. No sooner is the room filled with the sound of the phone being smashed to bits on the floor and Mino raises his head to look at the girls who are now wide-eyed with fear. Hoon stands between them and Mino, arms outstretched, shaking his head. “Not them, man,” Hoon pleads. For Mino’s sake, he knows.

Mino takes a step closer, however, and the girls flinch visibly.

“Where is he?” It’s all Mino could manage to utter between gritted teeth.

At that moment, several boys come in – smug faces and sardonic laughs, and Mino’s eyes land on the fucking asshole. His body reacts instantaneously, charging without warning, shoving him against the whiteboard. The boy cries out in pain and Mino bunches fistfuls of his blazer, spins him around and throws the first punch. He collides with the teacher’s desk, yelling a cuss.

But the little shit has fight in him – of course he has, Mino knows the type – and he aims for Mino’s jaw. Mino takes the punch, the pain numbed by the anger that overwhelms his senses, and Mino returns the present with succeeding blows to the asshole’s face.

A crowd has amassed outside the classroom and Mino knows he has to take this someplace else. Grabbing the boy’s collar, he drags him outside, the crowd immediately parting for them. Hoon had taken care of the little shit’s friends. Hoon has quite a reputation and they are wise enough not to make any attempt at coming for him to get to Mino.

“You’re not going to get away with this, you thug!” The boy spits, squirming, trying to get away from Mino’s grip, but he is smaller, weaker. Murmurs fill the hallway, but Mino is deaf to them, furious thoughts only filling his head and his ears. A few moments later, Mino is already tossing him into the comfort room, slamming the door behind him.

Kim Hanbin has the nerve to laugh before he pushes himself up to launch onto Mino. The fight is mismatched, Mino has all the physical advantage, but Hanbin is one cocky, unrepentant son of a bitch. Five minutes into the fight and Hanbin’s face is a bleeding mess, but there are no signs of backing down.

“You dare fucking mess with my sister?”

Mino’s fist lands squarely on the boy’s jaw with all the force he can muster, knocking him back, his ass falling to the bathroom floor with a thud. Mino keeps hearing voices from outside the door,  _nosy brats,_ but none of them dares open it. Hoon’s voice rises above the rest, but it is all encouragement Mino doesn’t need. Mino covers his fist with the other hand to massage the pain the continued impact caused. Losing his balance, he staggers back and lifts two fingers to the side of his lips and winces at the sharp sting. The motherfucking kid got lucky with a few punches.

“STAND UP!” Mino yells through the pain, Danah’s smile still a haunting image in his mind. Judging by how Kim Hanbin could barely move, he’d done a lot of damage. But it’s not enough.  _Never enough._ Charging again, Mino grabs two fistfuls of the boy’s shirt and hauls him up, thrashing him against the tiled walls. He reaches for the bottle of bleach next to the sink and raises it to Hanbin’s face. “I ought to wash that filthy mouth of yours!”

Hanbin stares back at him with cold eyes, and for a brief second, he recognizes the emptiness and recklessness they hold. A bloodied nose and a busted lip do nothing to hide the boy’s smirk. “Before you do that, do you want to hear how much your sister begged me to fuck her? It’s not my fault she’s not only a basket case, she’s also a whor--”

Mino lets out a scream and the next thing he knows, Hanbin’s limp body has slid down to his feet, but his fist is still up in the air, being held back by a force that wasn’t there before. Mino’s dark eyes flit to his side and he sees Kang Seungyoon holding onto his arm.

“Goddamit, Mino, you’re going to kill the kid!”                                            

“Let go of me,” he says through gritted teeth, his voice a low rumble while he keeps his eyes on the intruder. He manages to tug his hand away, but before he could make another move, Seungyoon worms his way between his body and Hanbin’s. He shoves Mino’s chest with force, making Mino stagger back a few steps.

“You’ll be expelled!” Seungyoon yells, his face contorted into an angry expression uncharacteristic of him. “Calm the fuck down!”

“I don’t fucking care!” Mino fires back, positioning himself to attack again but this time, Seungyoon is ready. He grabs hold of Mino’s shoulders and pins him to the opposite wall. Mino lets out a grunt from the pain that shoots through his back.

Seungyoon’s frame could barely hold him down and Mino throws a punch at Seungyoon’s jaw on reflex, nudging him back and busting his lower lip wide open. Seungyoon is unfazed and pushes into Mino once more, grabbing a fistful of Mino’s shirt.

“Use your head for once, you dimwit!” Seungyoon growls, his eyes boring into his. Gone is the painfully affable expression the guy always wears, or the mischief in his brows. He is playing no game, not this time. Seungyoon’s gaze is steely, resolute. “Danah is outside crying her eyes out! If you get expelled, do you think she won’t blame herself?!”

Mino’s chest heaves up and down, trying to make sense of what Seungyoon is saying. His eyes travel down to Hanbin, who since has turned over, coughing blood. And yet Mino could not feel his rage subside. Every part of him is on fire and he wants nothing more than to beat the living crap out of the fucker.

Seungyoon pushes his face closer, inches away, forcing Mino to look at him. “Mino. Stop,” he whispers, his breath heavy on Mino’s skin. “For Danah.”

It takes a few more seconds of a stare down before Mino breaks the impasse and takes a step back begrudgingly. Seungyoon lets out a sigh beside him, and Mino’s attention is now on Seungyoon’s bloodied lip. Moments later, Mino feels a hand wrap around his wrist. “Come on, Coach Jin is coming. You have to get out of here,” Seungyoon declares with urgency, pulling Mino to the door. Mino barely has time to process what is happening when they are met by the surprised, terrified faces of the bystanders as soon as they walk through the door.

Mino is too busy looking for Danah’s face in the crowd that he doesn’t pay too much attention to Seungyoon still guiding him out.

“Lee Seunghoon, take care of Danah,” Seungyoon’s voice is firm as they stop by the clearly flustered Hoon who could only gape in response, staring alternately at Seungyoon then at Mino. “Tell them Song Mino is with me,” Seungyoon finishes, pulling Mino away from the crowd and out of the building.

They get as far as the parking lot, Mino’s mind still a haze, consumed by anger and confusion. When he sees the familiar red car, he yanks his arm back and shoves Seungyoon away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“ _What the fuck is wrong with_ _you_ _?!”_ Seungyoon retorts. “Do you realize you just beat up the director’s nephew? There’s a reason why Kim Hanbin is fearless, you idiot!”

“You don’t fucking know what he did to my sister!” Mino shouts, his gruff voice permeating the open space. “You _of all people_ should know why I’m reacting like this!”

Seungyoon’s expression softens. Something stirs in Mino’s gut.

“Get in the car.”

“What?”

“Get mad at me all you want later. Punch me some more for all I care. But right now, get in the fucking car, Song Mino.”

Seungyoon doesn’t wait for a response and moves along. Soon, he is staring at Mino through the clear windshield. It’s another challenge, but this time, it feels as if Mino isn’t getting any other options.

Mino knows better. He should stay the fuck away. But against his better, saner judgment, Mino walks to the passenger side and climbs in with difficulty, still sore all over. Seungyoon drives the car out of the parking lot without a word, easing it into the highway. Mino doesn’t say anything and looks out the window, focusing on the sights they pass to calm him down slowly. Minutes later, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and takes it out.

_Hoon: Danah’s with me. She’s okay. I’ll take her home._

Mino runs a hand across his face and leans back against his seat in relief. He knows that as long as Hoon is with Danah, she’ll be okay.

After a while, he notices a small convenience store they already passed earlier and realizes Seungyoon has been going around in circles. He thought all this time that they’re going home.

“Where are we going?” Mino finally breaks the silence, his voice calmer, but still guarded.He still isn’t sure why he’s there, but he isn’t such a dick not to recognize Seungyoon's help.

Seungyoon doesn’t respond right away, he waits until they reach an intersection with a red light. Seungyoon slows down until the vehicle comes to a stop behind a white Audi before he turns to Mino.

“That depends,” Seungyoon answers, his voice low as he meets Mino’s eyes. "Where do you want us to go?" 


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you just gonna stand there all night?” Mino asks impatiently as Seungyoon eyes the rundown building in front of them with a dubious expression on his face, maintaining a safe distance from the decrepit structure with one foot practically already inside his car. Mino rolls his eyes, guessing how much the poor, sheltered kid must regret that he insisted on going anywhere with him. Not that Mino would know what goes on in Kang Seungyoon’s head, because none of his actions as of late make any sense to him in any way.

Seungyoon gnaws on one side of his bottom lip instead of replying, and Mino has half a mind to just leave him there. Surely he can find his way back on his own, even if this might not be a part of Seoul a person like him would frequent. Or accidentally end up in, really. Gangseo District isn’t exactly known for being the safest neighborhood in the city, and unless Seungyoon’s family has a secret shady business or he’s a petty criminal of some sort, there’s no reason for him to ever be there.

And yet something nags at Mino when his gaze travels to Seungyoon’s busted lip, one that Mino caused when he had lesser control over his anger. Although it could be said it’s partly Seungyoon’s fault for getting in his way.

Mino tears his eyes away from Seungyoon’s mouth and looks up. Quite frankly, the building really looks like shit – a likely haven for murderers and psychopaths, and if Mino didn’t know any better he’d probably be running away instead of trying to go in.

“It’s not so bad inside,” Mino assures him, making an effort to sound less hostile. Seungyoon finally looks like he’s willing to consider it.

“You’re not going to stab me and leave me for dead?”

“If you really believe I’d do that, you wouldn’t still be here.”

“I don’t know. You nearly killed a kid just now.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, if you want to leave, just leave.” With a drained huff, Mino turns away and moves towards the entrance of the building. He’s sore, tired, and still pissed as fuck. It’s been tough enough as it is and he simply has no energy or desire for another back and forth with the guy.

Maybe it was a mistake bringing him there. What was Mino even thinking.

Crouching down, he winces at a sharp pain near his ribcage when he tugs at the edge of the steel panels, maneuvering it expertly to keep it from jamming and giving him a harder time. With a grunt, he pushes it up past his waist, just high enough so he could fit right in without difficulty.

Dusting his hands, Mino pauses and whips around to see that Seungyoon hasn’t moved an inch from where he stands, and by the looks of it, he’s been watching Mino unabashedly. It would flustered Mino under normal circumstances but given the staring game they’ve been playing the past week, it’s nothing new.

The talking, however,  _that_ _’s_ new.

“Just so you know, I would have killed Hanbin because he’s an asshole who hurt my sister,” Mino speaks, slightly surprised by the conviction in his own voice. He’s used to being pigeonholed into a stereotype, and it’s simply more convenient to let people think what they want of him because he couldn’t care less. It’s not like they will ever change their minds about him anyway.

So why he suddenly feels the need to justify himself, he isn’t sure.

Maybe at the very least, he expects Seungyoon to understand. Because this is about Danah. And Seungyoon could be the worst next-door-neighbor there is and still know, to some extent, that to Mino, Danah is important.

“You, on the other hand, are just an asshole,” Mino shrugs. “Not worth the jail time.”

He stalks off and into the rotting building, aware for the first time in years of its grimy walls and broken tiles, smeared with lewd, faded spray-painted graffiti. The windows are nothing but remnants of shattered glass in rusting metal frames, covered with tattered newspaper to keep the sunlight out during the day. The space smells of week-old garbage and stale urine, something Mino has grown accustomed to and overlooked up until that moment – painfully aware and conscious and a little ashamed. He’s never pictured Seungyoon in a putrid place like this and going by the expression Seungyoon wore earlier, neither has he.

But this is home to Mino, more than his mother’s house ever is,  _will be_ , and that realization makes him suddenly,  _grudgingly_ feel small and insignificant. Seungyoon doesn’t belong here; nor does Mino anywhere near the places Seungyoon probably considers home. And that thought, Mino realizes, bothers him.

Mino doesn’t register Seungyoon’s presence until seconds later, when he notices another pair of feet going down the steps.

“Hanbin isn’t worth the jail time either.” Seungyoon’s voice is deeper, more resonant as it bounces off the moldy walls. Mino gives him a sideway glance, only slightly stunned that he had followed him in. “And I’m the asshole who stopped you from making a huge mistake.”

Mino scoffs. “Save it for someone who cares about you playing hero, Kang Seungyoon. From where I stood, what you did was butt into my business,” he counters as they descend another flight of stairs. He becomes starkly aware of Seungyoon’s nearness in the narrow space; Mino hastens his steps so he walks further on, at a comfortable distance.

They stop in front of a large door, the stench of the decaying building no longer as strong. Mino could hear the muted thump of bass from inside and raps on the metal surface five times – three in succession, another two after a beat. It’s a little silly, something the crew had agreed to do three years ago when they were younger and things like secret handshakes were cool, but it had become habit. More so, a reminder that Mino is part of something bigger than himself. And he likes how that makes him feel. 

Zico is the one who opens the door, predictably shirtless with his tattoos in full view, disheveled blonde hair sticking out in all directions. The older boy would have given him an animated hug by now, but his eyes only grow wide when they settle on Mino.

“Holy shit, your fucking face!”

Mino raises a hand to where his jaw hurts the most and pushes past Zico, his only thought at that moment is to collapse on their very old, very comfortable couch. He ambles onto the cluttered space, spotting Taewoon on his desk, the older boy’s expression turning dark as he rises to his feet and turns the music off.

Seungyoon stands awkwardly by the doorway, looking a lot like fish out of water. The Woos’ residence looks more like a place where a bunch of friends hang out than a real home – with all kinds of toys scattered everywhere, days-old food wrappers, soda cans, beer bottles yet to be thrown away taking up most of the space. Then again, the place is pretty much exactly that.

It’s not exactly a long story, and less bizarre than people would think. Taewoon and Zico were orphans with nothing but that building to their names. Their father used to be a businessman who bought it on a whim after believing some conman that Gangseo was the up and coming Gangnam. Needless to say, their business tanked, and their parents died not long after.

No one was crazy enough to buy the worthless thing, especially not in that dangerous district, so the brothers decided to just live there and make money off of it by renting part of the building as storage space for some very questionable people. Nothing legal, Mino assumes. But it pays for the property taxes and the upkeep, not to mention feed Mino and the other guys whenever they’re there, so Mino really is in no position to judge.

But Seungyoon doesn’t know that and Mino nearly chortles at his expression. He doesn’t look scared at least, just _really_ confused.

“Uhm, who is this?” Zico pipes, filling the sudden silence.

Sinking into the couch, Mino takes off his blazer and slings it over the arm rest. He pauses to look at Seungyoon who seems to be waiting for him to answer, too. “Some guy from school,” he leans back, wincing in pain.

“He’s bleeding. Did he do that to your face?”

Mino snorts. “Trust me, if he was the one who did this to me, he’d get more than a bleeding lip.”

“I’m Kang Seungyoon,” he offers his hand and smiles warmly, but instead, Zico slaps a hand on his back and pulls him in for a side hug.

“Any friend of my idiot brother is welcome in our home.”

Seungyoon catches Mino’s eyes over Zico’s shoulder, brows raised like he’s half-expecting Mino to clarify that  _no,_ they aren’t friends. But Mino figures that would involve a more complicated explanation so he lets it slide.

“What the hell happened to you?” Taewoon’s looming figure towers over Mino on the couch, the familiar steel medical kit in hand. You could call it Taewoon’s specialty – tending to wounded boys fresh from gang fights (as in the case of one of their crew mates, Hanhae, who never spends a week without a black eye), or even those that suffered from their stepfathers’ alcohol-induced beatings (which is more Sims’ problem). Taewoon had spent a year in nursing school before dropping out, more for Zico’s sake than anybody else’s. In the year that he was too busy in the university, Zico spiraled out of control and Taewoon figured it was best to stay by his brother’s side.

He does get to practice what he learned in that year by being the crew’s unofficial doctor, much to Taewoon’s chagrin.

Taewoon snatches Mino’s chin and examines his face closely, grimacing. “Did those Spitfire dumbasses do this to you?” He demands, setting the kit on the couch next to Mino. Judging by Taewoon’s expression, he looks more ready to murder than to heal. Their crew had been at odds with another crew after one of their members cornered Sims and beat him up pretty badly over some girl not long ago. “Or are you involved in school gangs now?”

“Nothing like that,” Mino assures him, glancing over at Seungyoon who takes a seat on one of the beat-up beanbags across from Mino. Seungyoon is observing them curiously, and he, too, appears expectant of Mino’s answer. So he gives him a look that he hopes comes across as  _‘don’t say anything’_ and turns to Taewoon again. “Just some fight. A kid got on my nerves, that’s all.”

Taewoon looks about ready to blast him. Being one of the oldest members of the crew, Taewoon is particularly protective of the boys. Mino more so since he once mentioned he saw Zico in him. But instead of the lecture Mino expected to get, Taewoon settles for a sigh. “Go get me some warm water,” he tells Zico who complies straight away and disappears into the kitchen.

“Hyung,” Mino says under his breath so only Taewoon could hear, eyes flitting to Seungyoon for a split-second. “Can you… uhh, can you do him first? It’s kind of my fault he’s hurt.”

Taewoon glances over his shoulder at Seungyoon who at that moment looks up from his phone. The older boy doesn’t say anything more and shifts on the table so he’s sitting facing Seungyoon instead.

“Hey. I’m Woo Taewoon. The guy who opened the door for you is Zico, my younger brother,” he speaks as he sorts through his kit, getting all the stuff he needed.

For a few seconds, Seungyoon looks puzzled that Taewoon is all up in his face, and then relaxes when he catches on. “Oh, uhh, I’m Seungyoon. Nice place.”

Taewoon stifles a laugh and Mino watches as he dabs a soaked cotton ball on the crimson cut, making Seungyoon flinch at the contact. Mino touches his own lip, wincing.

“You look like the type of kid who’d think this place is a dump,” Taewoon smirks. “But I appreciate the gesture. I'm not used to politeness around here,” he remarks, side-eyeing Mino. 

When Zico returns with a basin of warm water, Taewoon had just finished applying ointment on Seungyoon’s lip to prevent it from scarring. Zico also brought with him two beer cans and offers one to Seungyoon when Taewoon gets up to tend to Mino.

Zico grins. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. In here, everyone is old enough to drink,” he pushes the can into Seungyoon’s hand and Seungyoon does little to hide the pleased look on his face when he pops it open.

Fifteen minutes into Taewoon’s treatment, Mino ends up chucking off his shirt after the older boy insists on doing something about the bruises on his torso. Mino puts up a small fight (which he loses anyway, no one really wins against Taewoon) because...  well, he isn’t sure why. But he suspects it might have something to do with Seungyoon sitting right there, across from him, where he could see  _everything_. Not that it should bother Mino in the least – they’re guys after all and it shouldn’t be an issue. But he doesn’t know Seungyoon well enough, as well as he knows Zico and Taewoon, to be comfortable being half-naked around him.

Yes, that’s it.

Mino avoids looking Seungyoon’s way for most of it, focusing instead on the funny faces Taewoon makes when he was concentrating, only to be slapped when Mino represses a giggle, and is forced to finding interesting cracks to follow on the ceiling instead. Everything is going fine until Taewoon rises to his feet to get more warm water and all of a sudden, nothing obstructs Mino’s view of the other boy.

He notices Seungyoon’s eyes on his chest before Seungyoon blinks away and swigs from his can of beer, looking flustered. Mino thumbs at his tattoo, heat rising up to his cheeks all the way to the back of his neck, wondering why the room suddenly feels stuffier than usual.

The silence is deafening, amplified by a whole minute of them exchanging furtive glances in the most inconspicuous ways possible, which Mino belatedly thinks is ridiculous because both of them know what’s going on anyway. It makes Mino restless and tense so he squirms in his seat, ignoring the twinge of discomfort at his every little movement.

He clears his throat, but it’s Seungyoon who speaks first.

“ _Sentio Ergo Sum._ What does that mean?”

Mino looks down at his tattoo, bold letters in old script Latin, startlingly black against his skin.

“I feel therefore I am.” The words roll off his tongue before he could catch himself, his voice reverent as though those words held a sacred meaning. He raises his head and Seungyoon looks at him intently, his expression prodding Mino to continue, knowing there’s more to the explanation. Mino feels the weight of his stare and relents.

“It’s a reminder that I exist," Mino continues, his voice only a tad louder than a whisper. "That I’m still here because I can perceive things.  _Feel_  things.”

There’s a pregnant pause and Mino watches the way Seungyoon opens and closes his mouth without saying anything, his brows furrowed like he’s searching for how to respond. Mino also sees something in his eyes that he couldn’t quite place, and it makes his stomach lurch and his chest tighten for every second they hold each other’s gaze.

They finally look away when Taewoon saunters back into the living room with Zico. Taewoon goes back to sitting on the coffee table in front of Mino, while Zico drops beside him while talking to someone on his phone.

“Yeah, no, he’s injured. He won’t perform,” he says, giving Mino a quick glance.

That’s enough to make Mino jerk in his seat to look at him. “Hyung, I’ll do it tonight.”

Zico gives him an incredulous look and hangs up after telling whoever he’s talking to that he’ll call him later, then exchanges looks with Taewoon who doesn’t look approving either. “Song Mino,” Zico begins, looking unexpectedly serious. “You’re not fit to perform. You should be resting.”

Mino shakes his head, straightening up in his seat. “After what happened today, I definitely have to,” he says firmly, unwilling to take no for an answer. “Besides, I already promised I would.”

Zico ponders on it, ruffling his hair and sighing a few times. “Fine. But no after party for you. Straight home, do you hear me?”

Mino flashes him a smile which is quickly replaced by a rather loud ‘Oww! Hyung!’ when Taewoon presses onto his bruise. Taewoon apologizes with a chuckle, remarking that if he couldn’t even handle that pain, what makes him think he can move around so much on stage later. Mino just rolls his eyes.

“Hey, Seungyoon. Seungyoon, right?” Zico leans forward and drinks from Mino’s beer can. “You feel like watching Hugeboy later?”

“Huh what no!” Mino nearly jumps off the couch had Taewoon not been there to restrain him. He feels another wincing ache, this time, on his jaw.

“What, you’ve never had any friends come see you,” Zico adds with a frown and turns to Seungyoon again. “How about it? You can’t go there in uniform so I’ll lend you some clothes.” He narrows his eyes and gives the younger boy a once over. “It’s  _definitely_  not your crowd but you look like you're open to try new things. Hey, you befriended this idiot over here.”

Mino growls, ready to protest, but stills when Seungyoon smirks.

“I’d love to.”

 

 

Mino eyes the pack of people down the stage, drinks in hand, either engaged in conversations, waiting eagerly for the show to start, or just swaying to the thumping club song leaping off the speakers. It’s almost nine o’clock and they’re the first crew up. They’re much younger compared to the more established crews who always occupy the latter half of the line-up, but they’ve gained enough street cred to perform with the underground big leaguers, so to speak. They’ve also gathered quite a number of dedicated fans, most of whom were females, which Zico still shamelessly claims is owed to their good looks. Mino doesn’t know whether to be offended or flattered by that, but he doesn’t really care much for fans more than actually getting to rap.

“You sure you’re good?” Hanhae asks for the fifth time that night and Mino would have been annoyed if he doesn’t knows Hanhae means well. He nods and puts on his best game face to assure the older boy that  _yes_ , he’s good, and even if he isn’t, it certainly isn’t going to stop him from going up on that stage.

Soon, Zico is getting the crowd pumped up for Royal Class crew and the rest of the guys join him in the middle, jumping around, being crazy, just doing what they do best. Mino feels the familiar rush kick in under the dancing strobe lights, losing himself to the beats and Zico’s flow. He lives for this feeling. The only time he feels truly in his element is in the numbered moments he spends on the stage with the best people he has come to know.

Mino was fifteen when he first met Zico, during his first and only attempt at running away from home. 

With nothing more than a backpack with a few clothes and some money he saved up from skipping a few lunches, Mino had come looking for his uncle at a club. He was too young to be there, the huge man at the door told him as much and urged him to go home, but Mino had been smart enough to find another way in. He talked one of the waitresses into letting him see his uncle because of an emergency at home and entered the club easily.

That was when he spotted a teenage boy his age sitting on one of the amplifiers, bobbing his head to the loud music and acting like he belonged there. He was by far the easiest to approach, so that’s exactly what Mino did and asked if he knew his uncle by any chance. Zico’s face lit up as soon as Mino mentioned ‘Tablo’ and to his surprise, began dragging him around, introducing him to all his friends there who weren't much older than they were. They were all rappers, too. But Mino had been too shy to tell them that he also wrote lyrics and rapped because, well, he only did that in his room where no one ever hears. That was also the first time he was told that his uncle was sort of a legend.

Mino eventually found his uncle an hour later, and after an earful of scolding and having to beg the man to at least let him stay until after Epik High performed, Mino went back home – his runaway plans foiled but feeling like he gained something better.

_The flying guy tops the running guy, I’m the one who catches those bastards_

_Nothing but taking a breath between words is enough for me to breathe_

_The guy who’s driven in a stake properly_

_The guy who’s sharpening a sharp-edged knife again_

_Give me some time for now, then I’ll personally prove it like Tablo_

Zico faces him and jerks his chin, a smug smirk playing at the side of his lips while he continues rapping.

_Mino, Zico, the first threat_

Mino breathes in the energy of the crowd and raises the microphone to his lips.

_What the fuck, who could I be_

_At several places they talk arrogantly about me_

_Because I’m a puzzle, no matter how much you try to solve me by studying_

_You’ll barely get my silhouette_

_Who am I, a foreign color_

_Suckers, a parasite-eating insect_

_Body hidden behind curtains_

_The moment I appear, this place will soon be burned to the ground_

_As you can see I’m an animal_

_That catches the kids who just talk big_

_Mino or mystery_

 

 

Mino could barely move by the time he leaves the venue. True to his word, Zico leaves him out of the after party and doesn’t tell him anything about where the crew is heading – not that Mino doesn’t already know because they only ever frequent three places anyway and that already includes Zico and Taewoon’s home. Besides, Mino isn’t up for it and now that he’s done releasing all his anger on stage, all he really wants to do was go back home and check on Danah.

He doesn’t get very far from the exit when he hears someone call his name. He turns around to see Seungyoon in one of Zico’s Tupac shirts and Mino has to admit it still makes him want to laugh at how ridiculous he looks. But he doesn’t, and frowns instead.

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

Seungyoon half-jogs and stops in front of Mino, looking a tad dishevelled. He seems to have been roughed up a little in there, but judging by how rowdy the audience was tonight, Mino isn't surprised. He is, however, impressed that Seungyoon endured all the elbowing and the shoving and the screaming that must have gone down. “I was, uhh, waiting. I didn’t know what time it’ll finish and I had to return the shirt so–”

“Dude,” Mino cuts him off, glancing down at his watch. “Go home.”

“Aren’t you going home?” Seungyoon looks around. “Where’s your… uhh, crew?”

“They left. You heard Zico hyung, I can’t come with them after the gig.”

Another awkward silence ensues while Mino waits for Seungyoon to say something. He looks a bit hesitant, though Mino can’t think of a reason why he stayed and continues to follow him around like some lost puppy. Mino is about to tell him again to get going when he’s distracted by the excited chatter near the exit as more people pour out, already drunk, but ready for round two in some karaoke or another bar, likely.

A group of clearly tipsy girls pass by them on the sidewalk and one of them trips on her heel and lands right into Mino’s arms. He’s quick to catch her but is startled when the girl suddenly presses her lips on his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth. There’s raucous laughter among her friends and Mino recoils when the girl looks to be aiming for another one, but instead she tugs the back of Mino’s neck and leans into his ear. “Call me, Hugeboy,” she whispers, shoving a piece of paper into his hand before leaving with her posse with a coy wave.

Mino, still dumbfounded, looks at Seungyoon whose lips are pressed shut to restrain a smile, his eyes glinting in amusement. “Hugeboy?”

“Fuck off,” Mino unfolds the piece of paper in his hand and sees a less than legible phone number along with a red kiss mark.

“Are you gonna give her a call? She’s hot and she wants you.”

Mino tries to think of exactly how that girl was hot, but concludes she just seems easy and kind of rude, invading his personal space like that. He crumples the piece of paper and throws it over his shoulder, indifferent. “ _Please_. I’m not like you.”

“You make it sound as if being like me is such a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it? They’re just toys for you to play with so you’re not bored of your perfect life. It’s the one area where you can feel like you’re calling the shots and not just following this elaborate life plan til you’re sixty. Besides, I feel no need to feed my ego like that.”

“Wow,” Seungyoon mouths, faking hurt and clearly trying to sound blasé, but Mino thinks he sees something genuine there that fizzles out quickly. If Seungyoon is ever affected by his words, he’s clearly trained himself not to let it show. “I’ve never had anyone hate me this much.”

Mino scoffs, decides he has no energy to attempt to read into Seungyoon, or be annoyed by his faux confidence. “Whatever.”

Seungyoon recovers all his composure and casually slides his hands in his pockets. “You need a ride?”

It has to be said that if things were different, Mino would reject the offer. But he also had no energy left to find a way to get home at this hour, especially in the state he’s in, and spending on a cab seems too impractical when something free already presents itself.

For the second time that day, Mino ends up in Seungyoon’s car. The same car he has hated for more than a year since Seungyoon got it on his eighteenth birthday one very loud Saturday morning, when Mino looked out his window and found Seungyoon practically hugging the vehicle, screaming his joy at his parents.

But stranger things have happened this past week, including interacting with Kang Seungyoon more than he ever has in the last decade.

They are quiet pretty much through the ride until Seungyoon breaks the silence as they slow down, approaching a busier intersection, halfway home. “By the way, you were great up there.  _Really_ great. I mean, I hear loud music from your room sometimes but I didn’t know that you actually made music,” he pauses, looking pensive. “Now that I think about it, I’ve  _heard_  you, I just – you know – didn’t know it was  _you_.”

Mino has no idea what to say to that; he isn’t used to compliments and he especially doesn’t expect one from Kang Seungyoon, so he just grunts in response and looks away, fiddling with a bottle cap that somehow ended up in his pocket. They are quiet for some time again, with Mino's thoughts drifting to Danah and the events from earlier.

“So what happens to me now?” Mino speaks, turning to Seungyoon. “Since you’re so nosy you broke off the fight, you must know how much deep shit I’m in, right? Am I gonna be expelled?”

Seungyoon exhales out loud, keeping his eyes on the road. “I don’t know. I suppose if the director wants you expelled, it’ll be easy for him to make it happen.”

“Well fuck,” Mino lets out a dry laugh. “You should have just let me kill Hanbin then.”

Surprisingly, Seungyoon smiles to himself and shakes his head. “You know, you can always threaten the director you’ll do it if he kicks you out. Bring your crew with you, they’ll scare the shit out of that old man.”

“Because my friends look like a bunch of thugs?”

Seungyoon turns to him, pretending to be apologetic all while suppressing a smile. “To be honest? Well…”

Mino snorts before he could stop himself and winds up sniggering. “Yeah okay, I can acknowledge Hanhae hyung kind of looks the part.”

"It'll be fine," Seungyoon says with hopeful finality, but Mino knows not to be too optimistic. In his experience, someone like him rarely gets second chances. Something Seungyoon probably wouldn't understand.

It doesn’t take too long until they’re taking the right, into their street. Seungyoon slows to a stop at his usual parking spot in front of their house, only the sound of the engine filling the quiet night. Mino alights promptly and rounds the car to the driver’s side where Seungyoon just shut the door.

“Listen,” Mino begins, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes downcast. “I… I’m bad at, you know, thanking people but thank you, I guess,” he says the last few words too fast they come out a burble, but he means it, really, even though he’s determined not to make a habit of putting himself in situations where he has to thank him again. When Mino raises his head, Seungyoon is smiling.

And Mino feels it again, a familiar wrench in his gut that makes him uncomfortable and tense. The longer he’s around Kang Seungyoon, the more it happens.

“But you need to stop whatever this is,” Mino continues, more resolute. “I don’t know why you’re helping me, giving me rides, bugging me in school, I fucking don’t get it, but I don’t like it and you need to stop.”

Seungyoon’s smile fades quickly, brows creasing, and he gives Mino that same heated look from when he almost ran him over. Nostrils flaring and eyes blazing, Seungyoon takes one step – that one step that shows mounting aggression Mino knows all too well. Mino doesn’t back down though, heart bizarrely pounding, matching the intensity of Seungyoon’s stare.

“Ten fucking years,” Seungyoon starts to say, his voice a low growl. “For ten years I watched you judge me and hate me for god knows what. I don’t even know what I fucking did to you but stay out of your way all this time,” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “But you know what’s funny? I never,  _not once,_ thought the same of you. You’re asking me why I’m doing all these? Fuck if I know. But you dare call me names when you’re the one being an asshole here. Not me.”

“Get off your high horse,” Mino says, feeling the burn spreading in his chest at Seungyoon’s words. “You’re trying to win over the one person who could see through you. So I’m the only one who knows you’re not the saint you’re pretending to be, _deal with it_. Stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re doing this for anybody else’s sake but yours.” Mino chuckles icily. “You almost had me there for a second, I’ll give you that.”

“And you think you’re so great?” Seungyoon clenches his jaw, seething. “You’ve built this story in your head that you’re some victim and somehow that entitles you to act like a dick. You isolate yourself, thinking you’re better than people who actually  _try_ to live their lives despite their own problems and  _daddy issues_. But the truth is you’re just a coward,” Seungyoon pauses, skirting just a little closer. “You’re scared that if people get to know the real you, they’ll still think you’re a loser anyway.”

“Fuck you,” Mino grabs at Seungyoon’s shirt and lugs him against his bigger frame. Mino snaps and he feels burning rage pool in his chest. “You don’t  _know_  me.”

“Oh I know  _way_  more about you than you think,” Seungyoon counters, his breath ghosting over Mino's lips, and something edges underneath Mino’s skin. His chest heaves up and down and he is on the verge of throwing another punch, one that would damage Seungyoon’s face if he so wanted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mino snarls, his voice a low rumble as he keeps a clenched fist on the other boy’s shirt.

Seungyoon’s eyes drift down to his mouth, eyelashes casting a shadow against his cheeks. And all at once Mino is aware of their proximity, the heat coming off of Seungyoon’s breaths, and he, too, mirrors Seungyoon’s movement, drawing his gaze towards his busted lip. The cold air thins around him and Mino could hear his heartbeat quickening, hammering against his ribcage.

Mino knows how to make it stop. He shoves Seungyoon away, causing the other boy to stumble back, but before they could part far enough, Seungyoon grabs Mino’s shirt and yanks him close.

And  _fuck_ Kang Seungyoon is kissing him.

Forcefully.

So much so that Mino momentarily winces at the sting, tasting blood from the cut on his lips, or Seungyoon’s, he couldn’t be sure. He’s too stunned to react or to push him away like he should, his whole body going frigid.

But Seungyoon’s lips are losing their tightness and Mino’s knees go weak when Seungyoon draws back just a little without losing contact, then presses on again,  _gentler_ , but still eager somehow. The tip of his tongue teases the edge of Mino’s bottom lip and he gasps, head swirling and legs wobbly. What happens next is beyond Mino’s comprehension, _beyond_   _his_   _control_ , as Mino parts his lips, bucking his hip upwards, making Seungyoon groan in his mouth. And Mino could  _feel_  Seungyoon against the fabric of his pants.

That’s enough to jolt Mino out of his stupor and he pulls away, breathless as he takes in the sight of Seungyoon, lips swollen, cheeks flushed under the yellow lamplights. Mino throws him an accusing glance, still dizzy, still reeling.

Neither of them say anything, until Seungyoon tugs at the edge of his shirt and pulls it up over his head. Mino’s eyes land on Seungyoon’s stomach, pale and ripped, before his gaze travels up to the other boy's chest and his neck until the shirt is completely off. Mino feels something stuck in his throat, keeping him from speaking. Seungyoon tosses the shirt at him, his expression still fiery, from anger or something else entirely, Mino discovers, he’s unnerved to find out.

“Tell Zico thanks,” Seungyoon pants, making small backward steps until he’s at least a few feet away. “And Mino,” Seungyoon stills, sucking in his lower lip. A surge of heat mounts at the back of Mino’s neck, the same heat that inches much, much lower. He gulps. “Open your damn window.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rap in the middle is Zico's Who Am I feat. Mino (lyrics credit to: khiphoplyrics). Royal Class was the name of their underground hiphop crew before they debuted. 
> 
> ALSOOOO I know it's not what Mino's tattoo says lol but I didn't know it yet when I wrote this haha :)) let's just pretend it's 'sentio ergo sum' for this story :D

**Author's Note:**

> The song little Mino was listening to is Epik High's 'I Remember You'


End file.
